


Drunken Spoiled Man-Children

by Pineapple_Strawberries_15



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Dark!Charles, Enabler Erik, M/M, Spoiled Charles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineapple_Strawberries_15/pseuds/Pineapple_Strawberries_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles begins to act like a spoiled brat, his childhood and Erik helping it along, and Erik eventually gets sick of it. Their relationship is strained, Charles needs to act his age, and Erik needs to stop enabling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

To say Erik indulged Charles was an understatement; he spoiled the man rotten to the point he should rot and everyone including Charles knew it. If Charles wanted something in the middle of the night, Erik would readily go for it as if he were killing Nazi's. At first the telepath tried to get his lover to stop jumping every time he had a whim, but to no avail. No, Erik was an overprotective mother-hen that would probably cut out his own kidney if Charles asked to have it for dinner. Honestly, Charles wasn't used to someone so willing to do whatever he asked and care for him to the point it was down right deranged- not even Raven had been like that, thank the heavens.  
At some point during their relationship, Charles got it into his head that Erik's spoiling of him was okay, that it was some show of love for him; it was like his childhood all over again. Charles never wanted for anything; maids and butlers at his beck and call, willing to do whatever he demanded under the direction of his mother who thought it easier to show her love with money. If Charles asked for something, he had it. He wanted a mutant sister, and Sharon couldn't say she particularly cared that he got it- she adopted Raven and that was that. So long as the two acted like proper children of a wealthy family, especially in public, and were taken care of in whatever way, Sharon had no other worries for them.  
Raven and Charles both got whatever they needed or wanted, but Raven understood Charles' kindness and love for her were pure- and never got it into her head that what Sharon was doing was okay, and she sure as hell didn't think what Erik was doing was okay; he didn't realize that by giving into Charles' every whim, he was creating a brat- he didn't understand that Charles thought this was okay, it was his role that he should play, he thought that this was love and it twisted his mind like a gnarled tree.  
“I love your dinners, Erik. You are such a wonderful cook.” And Erik started cooking.  
“Perhaps we could have Lasagne tonight, is that okay?” And Erik did it.  
“Your chicken was a bit dry tonight dear. . .” So Erik worked on it.  
Some nights he wouldn't touch his food, just his wine, because Erik chose the wrong meal.

It wasn't just dinners, it was clothing and the little things Erik would do for Charles. Charles barely had to lift a finger besides to do paperwork and help the other First Class members- and it made Charles demand perfection from them in everything. If they didn't clean the house correctly, he'd have them do it again. If they didn't act in an appropriate manner, he'd reprimand them to the full extent of his abilities.  
Raven had never seen her brother so completely unstable- she realized one day, with a heavy heart, Charles was acting like Sharon had. The petite blond woman with the shock of blue eyes, pale skin, and soft body was usually prim and proper and generally well behaved, unless she didn't get her way. She'd take to throwing things and growling and firing the staff- “she's crazy,” the staff would whisper, “somethin's not right in her head.” When Raven first came into the family, Sharon seemed perfectly stable, but somewhere down the line she seemed to lose her mind. She acted like a spoiled child.  
Sharon. A spoiled, drunken, unstable, bratty, child. She had her lucid moments, but they eventually became few and far between by the end of her life. In the end she acted like a raving loon, everyone was against her. She spit in Charles' face, almost cut the throat of a butler by throwing a broken bottle, pulled Raven's red hair until she was on the ground for not doing exactly as she asked, when she asked.  
The night Charles, a usually calm man, smashed a wine bottle in fury against a wall- because it was the wrong bottle, Erik realized there may be a problem. “Clean that up Charles, what has gotten into you?” The telepath sneered at his lover, “why don't you?” Erik's brow furrowed, Charles was acting like a crazy little brat. He recalled the small children throwing hissy fits in the department store, over candy, and it reminded him of Charles; the difference was the fact kids didn't know better, their minds weren't developed enough- they were like little drunks running around about the place, but it certainly wasn't appropriate for Charles to act like that.  
The tall German man looked over at the glass, unsure what to do, he rubbed a hand over his forehead, “clean it up Charles. I'm not cleaning your mess. You threw the hissy fit, you must face the repercussions of your actions.” He was getting so tired of fighting with Charles over these things, giving in each time just for Charles to act worse the next time around. He man usually responded with anger, or walked away, tonight was different though. The metal manipulator realized he'd aloud this to go on for too long; he loved Charles, he did, but he had a part in ruining this man. Charles was turning into a brat because of him, and he had to put his foot down. So, with a heavy heart, Erik started to walk away.  
That's when Charles did something he'd never done to Erik before.

Charles started crying, his eyes red, cheeks alight with a flame, “you're just going to walk away? Do you not love me at all? Don't walk away from me Erik.” He sobbed, and good heavens, he was never so ugly. Those blue eyes were cold and distant, Erik had no idea who he was looking at, but it was not Charles Xavier. “Now you listen here.” the German snapped, sharp teeth bared, “I have done nothing to you, you have done this yourself. Do not play pity party with me Xavier.”  
Erik shook his head in furious disbelief, his own face reddening with barely controlled rage, “you are not the man I fell in love with. You. . . you won't clean up something you broke? Have I become your servant instead of your lover? Taking demands from you? How dare you.” Erik left the room with a slam of the door and the glass remained in the same place- Erik refusing to clean it up and making sure no one else gave in with threats to throw them all from a satellite if they did. Nobody saw Sean for a while. . .  
~  
“I don't think he loves me anymore Raven, he doesn't. I know it.” Charles sobbed to his sister after several days of Erik avoiding him. She'd been keeping her distance from the two, not wanting to get into the middle of it, but that morning when she had heard his sobs and the crashing of glass, she entered his study to find him finally cleaning up the wine bottle with his bare hands- a guilty look across his red face- eyes watery and dripping. They sat in the cold white of the bathroom attached to the telepaths room, the blue woman removing glass shards from her brothers hands and cleaning the cuts.  
Raven sighed, applying antiseptic to her brothers hands, “why do you think that is, Sharon?” she quipped, Charles went ridged and stared at her with wide eyes. “Yeah, Charles, yeah. I just called you Sharon, because you have lost your fucking mind,” she snapped, “you are a brat. I know it, you know it, and finally Erik knows it. So, you know he doesn't love you anymore? Would you blame him?” A silence hung after her words, the plumbing the only whisp of sound in the room, Charles stared at the wall, averting his gaze. 

“I wouldn't.”  
~  
Occasionally, being a brat was fun, in fact it was a very human thing to do. Occasionally, people were spoiled, even Erik had his moments, but Charles had gone too far. The telepath realized that, realized he wasn't in a relationship anymore, in fact, he and Erik really hadn't been for a while. Erik may have doted on Charles, took care of him, but what had Charles done in return? Very little, it seemed. He felt as though he had been useless and awful throughout their whole relationship, he wouldn't doubt it.  
He looked in the mirror of the bathroom long after Raven had left, stayed there staring and standing in that spot, his mind was elsewhere. In the mirror stood Sharon Xavier, beside her son, and they couldn't have looked more alike. If Charles read her mind, he wondered if he'd just be reading his own. “Mother. I don't want to be you.” He whispered to her in the reflection, the only human sound that had come from him for hours. He imagined his mother had once been a good mother, probably before his father died, but he couldn't recall. He couldn't recall a time when she had not been posh or spoiled.  
The telepath stared into his own eyes until he was swimming in the black iris', within the confines of his own mind, he dug up an image of Sharon holding him and lifting him in the air. He recalled her feeding him from her own bosom, a blurred memory, and worrying over him when he had a fever. Somewhere along the way she became what she was at the end of her life; it sickened and shook Charles to his core. He didn't want to be on his death bed, spitting in his sisters face and beating Erik into submission, it was a frightening thought. 

“I don't want to be you, Charles.” 

He slammed his fist through the mirror and into the medicine cabinet.  
~  
Raven raised her head, listening to the crash from her brothers room, her stomach sunk. Erik adjusted against the wall and shook his head, clenching his jaw. They waited, had been waiting, for Charles to leave his room; “I don't think he ever left the bathroom.” She sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead, wondering how they could stop what had already become out of control. She had gone to Erik after her conversation with Charles, after cleaning his bloodied hands. Raven told him all about Sharon, all about what had transpired in the bathroom, and Erik had gone to wait with her for Charles.  
He wanted to talk to the man, to try and help him, because Charles was not okay- and he needed to fix what he had helped along, how. . . he had no idea. His lover exited the room quietly, stared at the two before him, and the silence stretched. “I broke the mirror,” he looked to the floor, then at Erik, “I'm sorry. Love isn't selfish, and that's what it became. . .” what was there left to say? The whole situation was unsettling, “I'm selfish.” Charles sighed, running a hand through his floppy hair. “And a bit crazy,” Erik added, “but we have that in common.” The telepath nodded quickly, a small smile on his face, “it's not right. I'm not Sharon.”  
“No, you aren't Sharon. You're Charles.” Erik sighed, “things just got out of hand. You got out of hand. I'm sorry for letting it happen.” Charles thought it was almost laughable, Erik apologizing for this mess, “Oh dear, don't. Don't apologize for this. I control my personality, but I let myself get like that, get so bad, and it's my fault.” - “No, Charles, we're both at fault. It's. . . you can still be a. . . a good man. You still are a good man.” 

Charles nodded, “My friend, be that as it may, we can not continue as we have been.” It was Erik's turn to feel his stomach sink, Charles may have gotten a bit crazy with his bratiness, but that didn't mean Erik wanted to break up! “What are you saying, Charles?” The telepath swallowed, “I'm saying. . . I'm saying if we keep this up. . . I'll end my life throwing glass at you like some deranged lunatic. I don't want to end up like my mom. She and I. . . we're so alike. . . I just, I don't want us to end like that. Erik. . . our relationship has been anything but for a while.” Raven bit her thumb nail, eyebrows knit in concern, the silence was deafening- and Charles walked away.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Charles walks away.  
> -  
> -  
> -  
> -  
> -  
> Years down the line.

By the time Charles was 60, he was the cuddly, bald, happy professor of The Lenssher-Xavier School For The Gifted. Erik, older by several years, still had a full head of hair, much to the chagrin of his lover. “Don't be jealous, Charles,” that sharp toothed grin sprouted across Erik's face, “Oh, Erik, I'm not jealous. After all, I still have my eyesight.” That garnered an irritated look from the metal manipulator, whose spectacles rested on the tip of his nose, “I can still walk a straight line,” he snapped back. Charles burst out laughing, “I'm not pudgy, like you, love!” - “No, you're just a twig!” They bantered back and forth frequently, pointing out each others flaws and laughing at themselves.   
“Want a cup of tea, dear?” Charles asked Erik, who replied with a firm “no, I don't want herbs dipped in bathwater.” The telepath laughed and pushed himself up from his seat, arms shaking slightly, his face didn't portray his age, but his body sure did sometimes. “Want me to get it for you, Charles?” Erik asked, but as always, Charles brushed the offered help off. Charles often got nervous about asking Erik for things, worried about falling into the hysterical brat he'd been in his youth; he had his brat moments, even his lunatic moments, but it had lessened with time.   
It took a lot to restrain the habits, the tendencies, but eventually he could. “Dear, you'll spill it,” Erik stood up with ease, he could still move quite well, unlike Charles who took to using a cane after a nasty spill in his 50's. The bald man tutted, “don't be silly, I can do it myself.” He walked swiftly to the kitchen, cane keeping him going, trying to beat Erik there- who was trying to race him there apparently. “I can do it!” Charles called after his lover, who had already pushed into the kitchen. Erik laughed, “you'll spill!”   
The telepaths face was red, “I will not!” The kettle was already heated, Erik pouring his lover tea. “You stubborn ass.” Snapped Charles, “at least let me carry it back.” The metal manipulator eyed him, “That a command, Xavier?” 

Charles laughed and smirked, “yes.”

-The End-


End file.
